Burger’s Zoo and the Illusion of Visibility

Burger’s Zoo and the Illusion of Visibility

By Luna Njoku Dominguez

The Royal Burger’s Zoo is a space of (in)visible encounters, both literally and symbolically. Offering an environment where visitors can experience first-hand the lives of the zoo animals they observe, the contextual space of the zoo structures the human/non-human dynamic in a number of implicit and explicit ways. The physical infrastructure of the zoo conditions the way in which humans interact with what is on display, and by employing a number of strategies which serve to structurally obscure certain elements of captivity, the true nature of this kind of animal subjugation is made visible. By focusing on this interplay between visibility and invisibility and the way in which the zoo structurally informs not only visitor experiences of the establishment itself but also perceptions of the animals, it is possible to deepen understandings about how Burger’s Zoo functions and what the wider implications of zoo encounters are for the relationship between human and non-human animals within society.

“We see it as our mission to protect and preserve (endangered) animal species and to let as many people as possible experience the wonders of nature. Together with nature, we want to inspire people, teach people, influence their behaviour where possible and allow them to enjoy everything that nature has to give.”

This mission statement taken from the Burger’s Zoo website incorporates three fundamental elements which are characteristic of the zoo as a cultural space. Their primary focus is to present and preserve nature, yet this first principle is inextricably linked to a desire to incorporate the human aspect into this environment, by way of inspiring, teaching and, most intriguingly, influencing their behaviour. A visit to Burger’s Zoo makes the interconnected roles of nature, humans, and cultural influence starkly evident. Although these institutions are predominantly based upon the zoological, any consideration of how the zoo functions and presents itself is also directly related to the anthropological element. Furthermore, the Burger’s Zoo website outlines a number of core values which represent their priorities as an establishment. Two of these values in particular highlight the interconnected roles which both animals and humans embody within the zoo itself: “Animal welfare is always our priority” and “Visitors are important”. As one navigates Burger’s Zoo the tension between these core values becomes palpable. As Tema Milstein argues, the zoo not only teaches humans about animals, but the animals themselves teach humans about culture (33). By understanding the entanglement of the human and non-human animal which occurs at the zoo, it is possible to generate a deeper awareness of the ways in which culture shapes, and is shaped by, this complex relationship. Paying close attention to how the animals are displayed to visitors and the interactions between these actors which ensues, it is possible to question what the zoo’s role is in culture and how the structural elements of the zoo influence our understanding of the zoological and of nature as a whole.

Upon entering the gates of Burger’s Zoo, visitors are greeted by a group of African penguins as they look on to visitors from their enclosure. However, what is striking about the penguin exhibit is the lack of bars or fencing to keep the animals at a distance from visitors. All that separates the penguins from the onlookers is a small pool of water and a low brick wall. The penguins’ fish-like odour wafts through the air, making visitors starkly aware of their presence before they even set eyes on the creatures. This initial encounter with the penguins sets the premise from the outset, Burger’s zoo’s structural approach serves to lower the expected boundaries between the visitors and the animals. Throughout the zoo, many of the animals are exhibited in a similar way – their enclosures lack explicit visible boundaries, surrounded predominantly by rocks, low fences, water and vegetation. In this way, the human visitors are awarded a sensory closeness with the animals they observe. They can often be seen, smelled, and heard without the inhibitive structures of bars, glass or walls – expect for in a number of cases. In Louise Reade and Natalie Waran’s study of people’s perceptions of zoo animals, they confirm that visitors are predominantly motivated by the zoo as a means for entertainment and enjoyment (115). Furthermore, they infer from results about individual perceptions of how well-kept enclosures are and how animal behaviour is understood, that the naturalistic appearance of enclosures serves to generate more positive impressions of captive animals (117). Affective connections made between humans and animals within the context of the zoo are central to the human/non-human dynamic and are highly influential in informing perceptions of the zoo. Reade and Waran propose that concerns for the natural appearance of enclosures may be tied to the visitors’ ability to see the animals and thus experience greater empathy with them which allows them to be more attuned to the perceived needs of the animals they encounter (117). Additionally, the sensory impressions generated by the observation of animals and the subsequent emotional affinity which this encourages for visitors, are fundamental components to human relations with the environment (Luebke et. al 61). Visitors tend to assume that environmental enrichment of animal spaces within the zoo amounts to a more positive experience for the animals themselves. Thus, the presentation of animals behind bars and in bare enclosures would inhibit the enjoyment of zoo-goers who do not wish to be confronted with the reality of the animals’ captive state “for fear of spoiling their day out” (Reade and Waran 116). Theodor Adorno attributes the proliferation of these kinds of “open” enclosures to the influence of Carl Hagenbeck (115), and in news piece written for the official Burger’s Zoo website, the founder, Johan Burger, is even referred to as “de Nederlandse Hagenbeck”. Burger’s relationship with Hagenbeck formed the basis for the zoo’s dedication to “allow the animals to live as naturally as possible,” as is stated in their online promotion of the eco-displays, yet the fact still remains that while the sensory boundaries may be lowered, the physical boundaries of the enclosures still remain for the animals, even where not explicitly perceptible to the human observers.

According to Adorno, the visibility of bars and cages “would inflame the longing for open spaces” for the animals, yet by keeping the boundaries of the enclosures invisible, he argues that civilisation only denies the animals’ freedom all the more completely (115). While the animals may not appear to be forcefully confined, the use of moats and strategic shrubbery are merely testament to humanity’s ultimate mastery over the non-human. As Adorno emphasises, it is precisely this ease with which we can encompass and harness nature in such a way that we leave it (seemingly) intact, which proves that our relationship with animals is one of domination (115). While the use of explicit confining structures only serves to make visible the notion that humans must totally entrap animals in order to control them, Burger’s Zoo’s moats and trenches serve to naturalise the idea of captivity. As Reade and Waran’s study emphasises, the naturalistic enrichment of animal enclosures can be understood to be a move in favour of human expectations of the zoo and their own perceptions about the comfort and wellbeing of the animals. The use of “open” enclosures and the subsequent invisibility of boundaries does not solve the problem of captivity, it merely makes it more palatable and seemingly less cruel. Attempts to make enclosures more or less conducive to animal wellbeing merely serves to reinforce the idea that animal captivity is treated as an inescapable part of society. Adorno draws on this notion when he refers to Hagenbeck’s layout as “a step forward in humanity” (116). The idea that animals might suffer less when the cage is removed and their space is extended is precisely a step forward for humanity, and not necessarily for the animals themselves. Of course, it may not be a stretch to suggest that animals lead more fulfilling lives in habitats which closely emulate their native surroundings – as is the case in the Burger’s Zoo eco-displays – however, this does not negate the fact that in many instances the invisibility of demarcated boundaries at Burger’s Zoo seem to be predominantly geared towards the immersive pleasure of the visitors. In one eco-display in particular, Burger’s Bush, the discovery of hidden fencing and nets can be interpreted as a deliberate way of preventing the intrusion of reality into the luscious landscape which has been produced. In this way, a kind of zoo imaginary is constructed by the narrative that animals within Burger’s Bush “live in complete freedom all around you” (Burger’s Zoo). However, these structural elements of the zoo only form part of the atmosphere of (in)visibility which the zoo experience generates. It is important also to focus on the ways in which humans and animals relate to and perceive each other within the context of the zoo.

As John Berger reminds us, “Visitors visit the zoo to look at the animals. They proceed from cage to cage, not unlike visitors in an art gallery who stop in front of one painting, and then move on to the next” (23). This analogy serves to highlight the inherent nature of the zoo as a space for the observing eye which is tied directly to its history as a colonial institution. Jody Berland draws attention to the hierarchical pretext which allows humans to occupy the role of spectator while animals are reduced to spectacle as carried over from the concept of the menagerie. The acquisition of animals from distant lands for the purpose of exhibiting them as trophies was an exercise in colonial power (Berland 17). The contemporary nature of the zoo may not necessarily aim to display physical evidence for colonial dominion and imperial mastery, yet the zoo as a socio-cultural institution cannot be detached from its roots in coloniality. Thus, in order to consider the ways in which humans and animals perceive each other within the context of the zoo, it is imperative also to acknowledge the historical origins of the zoo and how this informs contemporary impressions and encounters in places such as Burger’s Zoo. Nick Shepherd argues that the zoo is a product of colonialism in so far as “Colonial worlds gave rise to kinds of encounters, forms of affect, and forms of the gaze, that constitute a deep, and often hidden, part of the inheritance of the relationship between human and non-human animals” (6). The animals at Burger’s Zoo are subjected to the human gaze, oftentimes with little opportunity to escape any unwanted observation. The indoor enclosures of the meerkats, lemurs, and monkeys are fitted with glass panes from which the animals can be viewed sleeping, resting or eating, and in the extreme case of the African penguins, a 24/7 livestream allows people to observe them day and night from the comfort of their homes. In this way, the animals are deprived of any right to privacy and their agency is limited by the confines of their enclosures as well as scheduled cleaning and feeding times. This total visibility of the animals which awards humans the uninterrupted power of the gaze, however, serves to make certain aspects of the animals invisible. This invisibility pertains to the true nature of the animals under scrutiny within the zoo and it functions on two interconnected levels. In the first instance, the structural limitations of animal enclosures and their controlled routines prevent animals from behaving and interacting with their environment as they would in their native habitats. And, at the same time, our idealised impression of many animals, informed by symbolic and cultural narratives, may cause visitors to misread animals, driven by a desire to have these animals fit into their own preconceived expectations. As a result, the animals’ true natures are obscured, either by the physical environment or by our own expectations of what animals should be like. The first kind of invisibility is starkly evident in the cases of a number of the bird enclosures and the nocturnal section of the Burger’s Desert display.

Upon entering Burger’s Desert, visitors are struck by the sweltering heat and the dry atmosphere of the eco-display. A few vultures perch on the edge of artificial canyons and a small group of warthogs rest in the sand, however, keeping with the authenticity of the desert’s eco-system, educational signs inform visitor’s that due to the hostile climate of the desert, many animals lead nocturnal lives and thus they will not be seen roaming during visiting hours. A dimly lit tunnel leads visitors into a cave like structure where they house a number of reptiles, insects, and rodents. Contrasted with the large space in which the vultures and warthogs are kept, these nocturnal animals are displayed in small niche-like structures which create cavities in the walls, protected by a glass through which they can be observed. In the wild, the nocturnal nature of these animals would make any encounter with them highly unlikely, yet the manipulation of lighting and climate means the zoo can make these animals available to us at any time of the day. Yet, this encounter is entirely artificial, constructed in service of paying customers. As Berger asserts, “visibility, space, air, have been reduced to tokens” (25), the artificial nature of their enclosed environments is illusory, and by extension, the visitor’s experience of the animal is also to some extent illusory. Furthermore, descriptions of these species attempt to inform visitors of the usual routines and behaviours of the animals in their home environments. A number of animals are described as burrowing creatures, yet their enclosures barely contain enough sand or soft terrain for them to engage in this activity; and if they were allowed to burrow, they would no longer be visible to those who have come to see them. Likewise, the space in which many of the birds are housed deprives them of the ability to fly, one of the defining characteristics of most birds. Kept in some of the only fenced enclosures of the zoo, a number of brightly coloured birds pace and flap their wings within the cages of their indoor shelter. Around the park, robins and sparrows could be seen roaming freely between exhibits, searching for food and gathering twigs. The juxtaposition of these behaviours of the captive versus free birds makes the perception of the caged birds all the more stark. Although beautiful to see and hear, the encounter with these zoo animals seems somewhat detached from their own realities, part of their own animal instinct appears to be absent. Although the informational signs and notices which accompany the animal exhibits act as a kind of appendage to the true image of the animals in their habitats, a fundamental part of the animal’s nature remains invisible to the humans who observe them. What visitors are perceiving is not simply a bird but a bird in captivity, and thus the image of the bird which the zoo’s signposting refers to is not the one which visitor’s are experiencing. Much like Berger states, “the view is always wrong. Like an image out of focus” (23). The marginalised status of the animals that he refers to (24), is a direct consequence of the hegemonic role of the zoo which it owes to its colonial origins.

The human gaze which dominates the zoo is “inextricably linked to power, leaving the powerless at all times subject to the gaze of the powerful” (Milstein 32). Tema Milstein argues that it is precisely this quality of the “zoological gaze” which shapes and determines the image of the animal through the process of “projecting expectations and desires onto the animal who is quite literally, through captivity, presentation, and cage design, styled accordingly” (33). She suggests that any meaningful encounter between humans and animals on mutual ground is inhibited by this gaze, one which the contemporary zoo still very much reinforces (45). By marginalising animals in captivity and viewing them from a position of power, humans detach themselves from their own status as animals. This othering of the animals within the zoo can be seen clearly during feeding time at Burger’s Zoo’s chimpanzee enclosure. Sune Borkfelt draws attention to the distinction between the human and non-human animal which is often perceived to be natural as opposed to cultural, placing animals in a state of constant alterity (137). Observing primates which bear immense resemblances to humans would form the perfect encounter to begin to bridge the gap which the “other-obliterating” zoological gaze produces (Milstein 45). However, gathered together in the concrete-walled indoor enclosure awaiting to be fed, the reactions of visitors huddled against the glass make it starkly evident that a show is commencing. Keepers begin to throw pieces of fruit down into the enclosure, one by one, encouraging the chimpanzees to catch and holler as they wait their turn to eat. The reactions of visitors watching this display of behaviour is markedly different from the passive gazing which occurs when observing the resting tigers and sleeping meerkats. Crowds are amazed to witness the exact behaviour they expect the chimpanzees to exhibit, waving their arms and jumping excitedly in anticipation. Borkfelt highlights the ways in which common narrative stereotypes about monkeys and apes are often premised upon a sense of foolishness (144). Thus, this general comedic perception of monkeys works together with the environment in which they are perceived to obscure their dignity and resemblance to humans, and instead reduce them to a kind of caricature. Berger’s claim that “The zoos, with their theatrical decor for display, were in fact demonstrations of how animals had been rendered absolutely marginalised” (26), resonates with the experience of encountering the chimpanzees at Burger’s Zoo. The way in which the animals are essentially staged in circumstances such as these, refuses an encounter with animals which can foster any form of mutuality. Visitor experiences with the animals are influenced by the process of othering and human mastery which the zoo is historically premised upon.

This is not to say that the conditions of the Burger’s Zoo are subpar, or that animal welfare is not a top priority, however, the very nature of the zoo as an institution causes certain aspects of the animals to become invisible in favour of a kind of artificial visibility.  While Burger’s Zoo in particular prides itself on its eco-displays and the seeming freedom which animals possess to roam around, the fundamental nature of captivity prevents freedom unless it is presented in an illusory form. The strategic effort to make the boundaries of enclosures invisible creates increased visibility, between humans and animals through which visitors are able to construct an emotional affinity with the animals they encounter. Yet, the true nature of the animals themselves remains elusive as the naturalistic props and tokens which surround them are merely illusory references to their “natural” states. While animals surround visitors to Burger’s Zoo, part of them inevitably remains hidden to the human. In order to truly experience the non-human animal on a basis of mutuality, Milstein argues that the power of the human’s zoological gaze must be dismantled (45). Only reciprocal looking, free from the remnants of colonial hegemony can constitute the foundation for a meaningful connection with non-human nature; thus, Burger’s Zoo is not currently the place for this.

This is a very nicely written and engaging survey of many of the main arguments about the artificiality of zoos and how the visitors’ experience of “the wonders of nature” is blocked by a double invisibility. I find all of this quite persuasive, even though I think you start to take certain statements, e.g. by Berger, at face value toward the end, which leads you to accept uncritically certain ideas about what is “true” and “natural” which in turn casts your critique in terms of a rather simple, not to say simplistic, dichotomy. I think your paper would have benefitted from a more situated, (auto-)ethnographic perspective, which would have added nuance and “thickness” to your account. You begin by describing, albeit briefly, the smell of the penguin enclosure, for example, which really helps to set the scene, and I was hoping for more of this. Instead, I think, you retreated to the more familiar terrain of literature and discourse analysis, but as a result you end up writing more about zoos in general than about Burger’s Zoo specifically. I would have been curious to hear more about the “Dutch Hagenbeck” for example, and how his ideas about zoo design still shape the space today.

As I mentioned, I’d like to put the thick descriptions on the project website, and I would like to invite you (though you are under no obligation to do so) to revise the paper slightly, bringing in some more details from your visit, and ideally also including some audio/visual materials to accompany the piece. This will also help to make it feel more like a description of this particular zoo, rather than a critique of zoos in general.

Works cited:

Adorno, Theodor. Minima Moralia: Reflections from Damaged Life. Translated by E.F.N Jephcott, London, Verso, 2005.

Berger, John. “Why Look at Animals?” About Looking, London, Vintage, 1991, pp. 3–28.

Berland, Jody. Virtual Menageries: Animals as Mediators in Network Cultures. Cambridge, MA, MIT Press, 2019.

Borkfelt, Sune. “Non-Human Otherness: Animals as Others and Devices for Othering.” Otherness: A Multilateral Perspective, edited by Susan Yi Sencindiver et al., Peter Lang, 2011, pp. 137–54.

Luebke, Jerry F., et al. “Zoo Visitors’ Affective Responses to Observing Animal Behaviors.” Visitor Studies, vol. 19, no. 1, 2016, pp. 60–76. https://doi.org/10.1080/10645578.2016.1144028.

Milstein, Tema. ““Somethin’ Tells Me It’s All Happening at the Zoo”: Discourse, Power, and Conservationism.” Environmental Communication, vol. 3, no. 1, 2009, pp. 25–48. Crossref, https://doi.org/10.1080/17524030802674174.

Reade, Louise S., and Natalie K. Waran. “The Modern Zoo: How Do People Perceive Zoo Animals?” Applied Animal Behaviour Science, vol. 47, no. 1–2, 1996, pp. 109–18. https://doi.org/10.1016/0168-1591(95)01014-9.

Royal Burger’s Zoo. “Johan Burgers, ‘de Nederlandse Hagenbeck.’” Burgers’ Zoo: news, 11 Jan. 2008, www.burgerszoo.nl/nieuws/2008/01/johan-burgers-de-nederlandse-hagenbeck.

Royal Burger’s Zoo. “Burger’s Bush.” Royal Burgers’ Zoo, www.burgerszoo.com/eco-display/bush. Accessed 25 Apr. 2022.

Shepherd, Nick. “Cecil Rhodes’s Zoo: The Coloniality of Nature.” ZOOOF: Zoo of the Future, 18 Feb. 2018, https://zooofthefuture.com/log/cecil-rhodess-zoo-the-coloniality-of-nature/.